


Never to Part

by superbaturalross



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Angst, Bottom Dean Winchester, Bottom Sam Winchester, Castiel & Sam Winchester Bonding, Castiel Takes Care of Dean Winchester, Castiel Takes Care of Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester Takes Care of Sam Winchester, Episode 14x18 Coda, Hurt/Comfort, Incest, Multi, Omega Dean, Omega Dean Winchester, Omega Sam, Omega Sam Winchester, Pack Dynamics, Sam Winchester Takes Care of Dean Winchester, Scenting, Threesome - M/M/M, Top Castiel (Supernatural), Top Sam Winchester, Wincestiel - Freeform, aftermath of canon death, dean is still mad at cas, do not proceed if you haven't seen the episode, spoilers for 14x18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-15 02:24:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18489346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superbaturalross/pseuds/superbaturalross
Summary: How do you begin to move on when the worst thing has happened?Again.





	Never to Part

**Author's Note:**

> Note: SPOILER FOR 14x18 DO NOT CONTINUE IF YOU AREN'T CAUGHT UP
> 
> Also thank you so much to [FoxVII](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxVII/pseuds/FoxVII) for betaing for me.

Grief has always hit him the same way: a deep, all-encompassing numbness followed by periods of sharp stabbing pain. But this time? The pain feels different. More visceral. Sharper. It’s if his heart is being compressed in a vice. Cas’s scent surrounds him like a protective cocoon. While it normally soothes him, this time, Sam can’t even begin to think about how to swallow around the growing lump in his throat.

Dean’s been through this twice already, and Sam can’t even fathom this loss this first time. He reaches out to his brother, a hand on his shoulder, and Dean tenses, returning Sam’s questioning glance with a comforting one. But he’s closed off, his scent indeterminable. Shaking his head, Dean marches out of the room, and Sam follows him with his eyes, tracking his movement.

And with that, the compression in his chest returns and he hunches over the table in the reading room, tears flowing down his cheeks as he’s hit with a fresh wave of sorrow.

A hand traces up his back and settles on the juncture of his shoulder and neck. Immediately he turns into the embrace, his chest heaving as he sobs into the familiar trench coat.

“Sam,” Castiel murmurs, his lips pressing against Sam’s forehead in a tender kiss.

But Sam can’t answer. Not even the scent of their Alpha can soothe the insurmountable emptiness in his gut. His lungs are dipped in ice, his heart constricting with every sharp inhale. He’s weeping; his shoulders shaking with every breath he draws.

He’s already had to say goodbye to his father this year. And now, goodbye to his mother. He knows there are those who would kill for this kind of closure, but it doesn’t reduce the pain.

It only serves to amplify it.

Sam’s led from the library into their bedroom. At some point he stopped crying, though didn’t notice. He’s somewhere else still, his eyes red rimmed and his cheeks flushed. He lets his body relax as Cas undresses him, helping him into pajamas.

It passes in a flash and he’s under the covers, nestled in Cas’s arms as he runs his fingers through Sam’s hair - favorite pastime of his. Sam relaxes against Cas and closes his eyes, though sleep is the farthest thing from his mind.

He knows that neither of them will sleep tonight, not while they’re both preoccupied with worry over Dean. But there’s comfort for them in the knowledge that  Dean will come back to them. Eventually.

As his breathing slows, it’s back to the feeling of painful numbness, as if Sam’s wrapped in a cocoon of static, the world fuzzy around him. He focuses on his breaths, not letting the familiar pain invade his consciousness, but the more he resists, the more the sharp barbs of grief pierce through his shoddily built wall. He turns and buries his face into Castiel’s shoulder, his breathing rough and disjointed as he seeks out the comfort of his partner.

It feels incomplete. As much as Sam wants to allow Dean the dignity of grieving in his own way, he feels lost without his older brother.

But he doesn’t despair for long, because he feels the familiar weight of Dean’s body behind him, an arm slinging around his waist. He turns to scent Dean’s neck, scraping his cheek against Dean’s. Their scents mingle and they’re home again. Together, blanketed in Castiel’s alpha scent.

Dean’s fingertips card through Sam’s hair as well. His expression is stoic, but Sam knows that he’s slipped into protection mode.

Always putting him first.

“Dean,” Castiel says, his voice gruff, cracking under the strain of carrying this sorrow.

“Not now,” Dean says--and Sam knows that Dean needs to process.

He’s grown so much these past years, his seemingly choleric temperament tapering away to something that lets his more sanguine soul shine through. But sometimes he slips behind the mask; slips back into the anger, the walls he built up keeping his devastation in check. And when it breaks, Sam and Cas will be there to pick up the pieces.

Ever since they started this thing between the three of them - even though Dean refuses to put a name on it - Sam  _knows_ Dean’s different now. Though he remains stubborn and closed off, he’s less prone to frequent violent outbursts.

But now? Sam’s uncomfortable with his stoicism. It’s a reminder to Dean’s resolution to raise Sam when he was just four years old. And he sees it mirrored in his sorrow now. He turns in Castiel’s embrace and wraps his arm around Dean’s waist, leaning forward to press a kiss to his shoulder.

“It’s okay,” he says.

But how could it be? Nothing about this is okay. It’s unfair. They’ve all had their part to play in the actions that led to this. They’ve accepted their part they played. But even their shaky acceptance leaves a nauseating pit in their stomach.

And then there’s this thing they refuse to name. This thing that’s been hovering around them for years, culminating in the three of them unable to rest peacefully without the other two by their side.

It’s the only thing keeping them together.

It began when Michael was banished from Dean’s mind. After he’d spent weeks binge watching slasher flicks, Sam had insisted on sleeping in his room. Slowly he and Castiel and Dean began to retire there, finishing off the evening watching a late night program. When Sam had to go on hunts, Castiel dutifully took his place. And soon it just became accepted that the three of them slept together.

Simple cohabitation led its way to soft touches. A caress of the cheek in the morning; Sam affectionately running his fingertips through Dean’s stubble.

But it’s never progressed further than stolen glances and casual touches. Even though there’s a burning desire forming in the pit of Sam’s gut. After all the three of them had been through together, he couldn’t imagine his life with anyone else. Nor did he want to.

Sam buries his face in Dean’s neck and takes a deep shaking breath. It’s always calmed him, his brother’s scent. The faint aroma of gunpowder interlaced with leather and notes of honey. To Sam it’s home. So he tests the water and presses a kiss to the hollow of Dean’s neck, pausing when he feels him stiffen underneath his hand.

Castiel remains firmly pressed against Sam’s back, and Sam can feel Cas’s blue eyes boring down into his skull as a shudder runs down his spine. Before he can regret anything and pull back, Castiel’s hand is over him, guiding his fingertips along Dean’s hipbone. He leans forward to press a series of kisses down Dean’s head when he feels a shift around him.

Dean lifts up but doesn’t move anywhere, He’s propped up on his elbow and Sam begins to press kisses to the other side of his neck. Belatedly he realizes that Dean’s not moving because Castiel’s captured his lips into a deep kiss. Sam attempts to pull away to give the two better access, but Cas keeps his hand firmly on top of Sam’s. He isn’t going anywhere. They will kiss with Sam between them. He watches them, noticing Dean isn’t relaxing into the kiss, his body is hunched--strained. He’s gripping Cas’s neck in almost a bruising grip (luckily angels can’t bruise), but a part of him wants to pull them apart.

The scents emanating from both of them are conflicting. The soothing alpha of Cas contrasted against  Dean’s desperate angry omega.

It’s a paso doble, not a fight. When Dean breaks apart from him, he gasps, chest expanding and contracting. His jaw is tight, his fists clenched, and Sam leans forward to lace his fingers with Dean’s. Dean can’t bring himself to look at Cas, and he shies away from any gentle touch, and Castiel relents, instead focusing his attentions on Sam.  

Sam realizes his dick is throbbing in earnest want when Dean rocks his hips against his, their erections pressing together through the thin fabric of their pajamas. And Sam’s doesn’t think it can get more arousing, but when he feels another erection pressing against his ass, he realizes he’s blessedly wrong.

A the three of them move, acquainting themselves with each other’s bodies, touching, feeling, tasting, Sam’s body comes alive with sensations traveling up and down his spine, sending his toes curling into the mattress. He keeps his head buried in Dean’s shoulder and then feels his chin being lifted, turned behind him. His eyes flutter closed as his lips meet Castiel’s and he kisses him back with fervor, but he’s kept twisted at this angle, So he can continue rutting against Dean and grinding back against Cas. He pulls away before he opens his mouth about to express the fact that they’re all entirely too clothed.

The thought no sooner passes his brain, that with a wave of Castiel’s hand, the three of them are divested of their clothing.

Dean and Sam pause for but a second before they surge forward, their lips crashing against each other’s. With Sam and Cas, it felt like a new beginning, the start of something. With Dean, although they’d never done this before--never acted upon their feelings for each other, this is merely them expressing an extension of themselves. They’re not one without the other.

They are the truest halves of a whole. Soulmates. Their souls are the same. And they realize that both of their bondmate is Castiel. They’ve never needed anyone else in their pack. They have an alpha and two omegas.

This was what was meant to be. From the very beginning of time. They just needed a push to get there. A way to communicate. Mary gave them that. And Sam feels an overwhelming joy mixed with the pain. That something beautiful is emerging from the ashes of something so tragic.

He pulls away from Dean before pressing another kiss to his lips, his eyes hooded, pupils blown as he cups Dean’s jaw, a soft smile gracing across his features. Castiel watches over them, his fingertips carding through Sam’s hair.

“My Dean, My Sam,” he says softly, eyes full of light and kindness. “I will never leave you or forsake you,” he says, quoting Joshua. “And as long as you live, as long as I can protect you, you will never be alone.”

Sam and Dean pause then, their eyes glittering with unshed tears as they begin to process the full weight behind Castiel’s words. Sam’s fingertips lace with Dean’s and Cas’s and he pulls both their hands to his lips in a kiss.   
  
“Need you,” he says soft. “Both.”   
  
Castiel smiles, his fingertips pressing down into Sam’s hip. He nods and snaps a bottle of lube into his hands. He takes a minute to coat his fingertips in it before handing the bottle to Sam.

Sam nods once and does the same before he looks up at Cas and then back at Dean. “How…” he begins.   
  
Castiel barks tucks a lock of hair behind Sam’s ear. “Oh my beautiful boy,” he says. “I’m going to fuck you,” he adds, his eyes shining proudly at the use of the word  _fuck_ “And while I do, I’m going to use your body to fuck Dean.”

Sam nods once. He nods again. And he nods a third time as his brain short circuits, all the blood from his brain relocated to somewhere south. Probably permanently.

He groans, turning away from Cas and leaning forward to kiss Dean. He cups his jaw with one hand as the lube covered fingers travel down to his rim. Slowly he massages around the area, the lube seemingly replenishing itself (Which thanks to angel grace it is).

Dean’s mouth opens in a widened ‘o’ as Sam’s fingertips dip into the entrance, just probing, acquainting themselves with the area. He brushes one knuckle over Dean’s perineum, stimulating one side of his prostate, eliciting sweet moans from his mouth. He listens to Dean’s body, slowly seating his finger into the third knuckle, crooking it to find the other side of his prostate.

No sooner has he done that, but he feels Castiel’s finger enter him, and he closes his eyes, his body tensing as Cas presses into his tight ass. He leans forward, his mouth open, teeth lightly pressing into Dean’s shoulder as he adjusts to the feeling of being filled completely.

He mirrors Cas’s movements in his exploration of Dean, waiting to insert a second finger when Cas does, dutifully scissoring the opening so that Dean won’t be in pain later. Or at least, as minimal as possible.

Cas uses his grace to stop Sam’s hand from moving as he positions himself behind Sam and slowly pushes in. Sam’s back arches at the intrusion and he stops his movements, gasping as Cas slowly adjusts himself, fitting into Sam, as if they were parts of a puzzle.   
  
“Let go,” Cas croons in his ear, trailing his fingertips down Sam’s side as Dean watches, mesmerized.   
  
Dean leans forward and kisses down Sam’s chest, his tongue laving over a nipple, the bud hardening in his mouth. He blows on it, causing Sam to arch up his chest and gasp, his brother’s name soundlessly leaving his lips as Sam works in a third finger.

He coos words of love and comfort into Sam’s chest, and Sam can tell from his expression that he wants to do the same for Cas. But he can’t. Not right now. The push and pull is warring inside Dean, yearning for the comfort of his love, and yet, unable to wrap his mind around the events of the past forty eight hours.

Sam continues his ministrations on Dean, dutifully opening him up before he feels a tendril of grace loop around his wrist, stopping him.

He removes his fingers carefully, his mouth sinking down on Dean’s shoulder as he waits for the exhale.

Cas slowly guides Sam, still seated within him, to Dean’s entrance, enveloping them in his wings.

Sam groans, letting himself be positioned above Dean, hooking Dean’s legs over his shoulder so he can push into him.

Castiel maneuvers him, using Sam as a conduit to fuck Dean, and Sam is out of his mind with pleasure.

When Cas’s knot swells, filling him completely, Sam groans and spills into Dean, feeling Dean’s release hit his chest and stomach.   
  
He slips out of Dean, lying on his side, still tied to Castiel.

There are words they need to have later. They’ll need to set up a game plan of sorts. But not now. Now is just the time for touching, feeling each other, reaffirming their presence.

He doesn’t know what tomorrow will bring. He just knows that he needs the two by his side. Together.

And they’ll have tomorrow to begin to figure it out.

But until then, they’ll mourn.


End file.
